Page 59 of Stay this Christmas
He’d already rented harnesses for us, and talked me through putting mine on. Stepping into the leg loops like pants, I shimmied them up into place, got the belt around my waist and pulled the straps snug, then slid the adjustors on the leg loops around my upper thighs.
Basically the weirdest piece of apparel I’d ever worn.
“I’m going to make sure it fits right, okay?” he asked.
When I nodded, he tugged on my straps, checking everything was secure but still reasonably comfortable. He stood close, his expression dead serious as he inspected the loops and clips on my harness. I’d been prepared for it when his hands brushed my waist as he pulled on the safety belt, but when his fingers ghosted over my thighs to check the leg loops, a shiver rocked through me.
This was forsafety. No different from when they tug on your seat belt at the carnival to make sure you don’t slip out of the ride. I had no business getting all fluttery over safety checks, but here we were.
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound especially sorry. Smug would have been a better descriptor. “I have to be sure everything’s stable.”
Everything was stable but me.
“It’s fine,” I said, counting the brightly colored hand holds that dotted the wall in front of me. I told my body in no uncertain terms it would absolutely not shiver again.
“Okay, you’re good to go. I’ll go through my checks, and you’ll be ready to rock ’n’ roll.”
He went through the same meticulous inspection on his own harness, double-checking straps and loops with equal care. This responsible side of him made me stop and take notice, as though seeing him for the first time. For so many years, I’d painted him as a careless, carefree nomad—seeing just how seriously he took this did something weird to me. It brought out admiration, sure, but something else, too.
Heat. Another shiver worked up my spine, as though I was actually getting turned on by his responsibility.
If Eliza could have seen me now, she would have laughed her head off.
Safety checks were totally normal protocol for him. He had to make sure we were both secure. But that didn’t stop the next shiver from shuddering through me. That made three too many shivers just from watching a man make sure I wouldn’t tumble down a rock climbing wall. Anyway, if I did fall, I’d probably land on him, andthatwould just be…
Yeah, no. Get it together, Harper.
He checked the ropes that snaked down from the ceiling before creating complicated knots to secure them into both of our harnesses. Last, he clipped a chalk bag onto my belt, explaining why to use it, and how.
“Okay,” he said, giving me a huge smile that made his dimples pop. He leaned closer, practically humming with boyish mischief. “Are you ready to absolutely destroy these kids?”
I laughed at his teasing. All around the loudly echoing room, kids darted up the walls, tethered to their parents in similar harnesses. A few feet down from us, one had made it to the top and waved like mad while what had to be his mother took pictures from below, his father belaying him at the other end of their rope. From all the excited shouts and giggles bouncing around the space, the kids were clearly having a blast. Wasn’t sure I could match their exuberance, but I’d give it a try.
“I’m ready.”
“Only go as high as you feel like. I can bring you down safely any time. It’s not a race, and there’s no competition.”
He put enough emphasis on the last two words to give me pause. “Why’d you say it like some kind of ominous warning?”
“Because I know you like to win.”
Had me there.
He pulled most of the slack through the belay contraption on his harness. “Climb on, then.”
I moved to the wall and started climbing, relieved to find this section actually had more holds than the shorter wall. All the beginner green over here meant it should be an easy route to the top, assuming my muscles held out that far. The short bouldering climb had already made me aware of my glutes, shoulders, and fingers, but I didn’t want to give up before trying my whole reason for coming out here.
Sam’s advice running through my mind on repeat, I found footholds first before straightening up to reach the next handholds. The noisy gym hummed in the background, his encouraging words drifting up from somewhere beneath me as I worked my way higher.
“That’s the way.”
“Nice.”
“You’re a natural.”
His spirited cheerleading came out maybe a little overzealous, but it helped me get in the zone. As I climbed, my body adjusted to the mechanics of pushing myself up each small section, my focus zeroed in on the wall and finding the next place to put my hands or feet. Even the yelling kids all around us couldn’t distract me as I worked closer to my goal. Sam had said I didn’t have to reach it, but I wanted to make it to the top. I couldn’t cross rock climbing off my list if I stopped halfway.
I got into a rhythm, foot-hand foot-hand, my eyes never straying far from the next hold. Stress and worries vanished—nothing mattered more than my hands wrapped around the holds and my toes finding purchase as I moved up the wall. I needed to get to that red line at the top.
